A Welcome Storm
by peppercornshrimp
Summary: Moments in time featuring Connor bonding with different members of the AI gang. Pure AU fluff where Connor returns from Quor'toth as a young teenager and is learning to live with Angel. Lots of tears, angst and cuddles.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I always felt like Connor got the raw end of the staff as far as the storyline went, it just got plain weird and what they did with Cordy always left a bad taste in my mouth. I know Connor isn't a popular character, but I still love this father/son pair.**

 **This is an AU where Connor comes through the portal at 13 instead of 16/18 (?) and is living with Angel & co in the Hyperion. Depending on it's reception I might do a series of one-shots or a retelling of the 4th season with 13 y/o Connor.**

 **Disclaimer.**

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Thunder cracked loudly shaking the entire hotel with the reverberations. The sky lit up blindingly bright for a single moment then went dark again. The cumulonimbus clouds covered the horizon and made the sky seem tenebrous and frightening despite sunrise only being a few hours off.

Connor shot straight up at the sound of thunder, the loud noise jarring him from his dream. The fine hairs on his arm rose, droplets of cold sweat formed on his brow and his heart was beating rapidly. Never in all his young life had he heard something so loud and terrifying. His preternatural ears were still ringing in pain when another crack of thunder shook the walls.

Ashamedly, he let out a soft squeal before leaping out of bed. He could feel his heart clog in his throat as he tried to swallow down feelings of consternation. The most perplexing part of the whole ordeal was that Connor could not hear anyone else in the hotel stirring. Was no one else as concerned as Connor about the source of the noise.

Connor crept out of his room and started down the hall to Angel's room. When Angel yanked Connor off the street and moved him in with them Angel had originally let Connor choose his own room. Connor chose a nice room too, it was on the top floor and had a view that overlooked the entire city, also no one else in the hotel lived up there so he had the entire floor to himself.

However, after a few unfriendly dreams, Angel moved Connor into the room adjacent to his on the first floor so he could ' _be there if Connor needed him_ '.

Much to Connor's chagrin.

Tonight, though, Connor left his room equipped with a plan. He was going to demand that Angel awaken and explain (and/or vanquish) the source of that noise. Straight and too the point, no room for hugging or that infuriating mollycoddling. He was not seeking Angel out for comfort, he was seeking Angel out for answers.

When he found himself standing in front of the door to Angel's bedroom suite, he paused. All he had to do was calmly knock on the door and announce his concerns in a mature fashion.

That was the plan.

Connor was going to stick to the plan.

Connor's hand hovered over the faux wood plastic-y material the door was made out of. He had to pause to take a moment to appreciate the truly horrendous interior design choices of the hotel - just look at this door, what color was this? Ketchup? Burnt dirt? He did not take a pause because he was nervous and pleading with his own heart to _slow down_.

Connor let out a shaky breath and prepared himself to knock when the door swung open.

Angel stood in the doorway in his silk argyle pajamas, his hair tousled from sleep. He yawned deeply into his palm and peered down at his young son.

Connor, caught off guard, gasped at his father's sudden appearance. He mentally chastised himself for not hearing the vampire approach the door. Connor opened his mouth ready to recite the speech he prepared on the short walk from his room when another horrifying crack of thunder resounded through the air like cannon fire.

"ANGEL!" Connor screamed out of fright as he launched himself at his birth father. Connor buried his face into Angel's middle, wrapping his arms tightly around Angel's waist.

Angel, drawn out of REM sleep by the loud thunder, was roused fully awake by the sound of his son's rapid heart beat and the distinct scent of fear. Despite still being groggy it only took a fraction of a second for Angel to get his bearings and wrap his arms back around his small son.

"Hey bud, what's going on?" Angel asked rubbing small circles in Connor's back.

Connor didn't even lift his head to answer but instead spoke directly into Angel's shirt front, "what's that noise? Is it a monster? Or an explosion? Connor asked, his voice muffled by the top.

There must not have been thunderstorms in Quor'toth, Angel mused to himself. "It's just a storm Connor, nothing to be afraid of." Angel said in a way that he hoped would be reassuring.

However, Angel's words seemed to have the exact opposite effect. Connor stiffened in Angel's arms before jerking away.

He turned his back to his father and crossed his arms before mumbling out a declaration that he was not afraid.

The pitch of his voice and the hair on the back of his neck told a different story though.

"I just didn't know what it was," Connor elaborated, determined to prove that he was not nor would ever be afraid. Connor squared his shoulders and straightened his back before turning on his heel to face his father again. "Now that I know what it is I will return to my room," he said, still unsure of what was causing the noise but unwilling to show apprehension in front of Angel.

They of course had storms on Quor'toth but they were never accompanied by that unpleasant sound.

Angel watched as Connor began to haughtily toddle off in the direction of his room when a flash of lightning shot across the sky. Angel could physically see the shiver of fear shoot up Connor's spine. He stood waiting to see if his stubborn offspring would turn around of his own vocation or if he would stomp off to his room and make Angel fetch him later.

The two did this dance every time something frightened Connor, whether it be a nightmare or in this case a summer storm. And as tiring as this dance could be, Angel thought he was getting quite good at it.

The three steps forward, two steps back, the quick step to avoid bruising Connor's pride.

"Connor," Angel called out, rubbing a tired hand across his face, "com'ere son." His voice soft, without any hint of command, an attempt to lure his son over to him.

Connor stopped in his tracks, debating if he should listen to Angel or not. On the one hand he would be happy not to return to his room, on the other he didn't want to openly show cooperation or that he would listen to the vampire. Reaching a decision, Connor turned back around and walked to Angel's side with what he hoped was an aloof expression on his face.

Angel held out his hand for Connor to take, and much to Angel's surprise Connor accepted the hand.

Slipping his hand into his birth father's much larger one, Connor allowed Angel to lead him down the stairs and out to the veranda stepping out into the crisp night air. Father and son stood in the limited protection of the cement awnings watching as the rain splattered against the concrete in their open air patio.

Angel crouched down, resting on his haunches so he could wrap his arm around Connor's middle and pull him into a close side hug.

"Look," Angel said, pointing to the dark sky, "those are storm clouds. When warm air from the ground rises and collides with cooler air above it a cloud is formed. The flash of light is called lightning which happens when ice in the clouds collide causing an electrical charge. Lightning is what causes thunder, the big boom you hear. When the electrical charge moves through the cloud it creates an air column that vibrates and makes the noise we hear." Angel expounded in what he hoped was layman's terms. He wasn't entirely sure what Connor knew about science but the boy nodded along with Angel's explanation. If Connor didn't understand then at least he was faking it.

Connor stood, shielded from the rains and watched, enamored by the storm clouds and occasional flash of lightning. In an odd sense, he began to find the storm soothing. In Quor'toth Connor learned to fear the rain from an early age. Holtz and he would hide in their cave waiting for the storm to pass, any creature unfortunate enough to be caught outside met a painful end as the sulfuric rains burned them alive. The stink rotted the very insides of Connor's nose, but the rains on Earth were so different smelling and not at all rotted.

"Can I...?" Connor trailed off, cocking his head to the side gesturing to the open patio.

Angel smiled sweetly at the boys curiosity. He watched as Connor stretched out a tentative hand as though he was going to touch the water. When the boy hesitated Angel gently grasped his tiny hand and held it open so he could catch some rain drops in his palm.

Connor gasped as he felt the cold water bounce off his hand. The rain didn't burn him at all and Connor found he quite liked the feeling of the cold rain. He turned and looked back at Angel who gave a brief nod and let go of Connor. Connor, like a baby deer learning to walk, took tentative steps to stand under the cloudy sky.

The cold rain was now hitting Connor's skin and the first thing he thought to do was open his mouth and stick his tongue out. The water hit the back of his throat but Connor soon found that the rain wasn't falling nearly fast enough to satiate any thirst. He closed his mouth and stepped out further into the back patio. He opened his arms wide and twirled in a circle feeling the rain and cold air splatter against him.

Angel stood, watching his son play in the rain with a smile across his face. The boy would run and jump off the patio furniture into a shallow puddle. He fought strong paternal instincts that told him to get the boy inside now before he caught his death. No, the boy deserved to play in the rain at least once. Next time Angel would make sure that he was wearing a rain coat but for now Angel would sit back and enjoy watching the boy play.

After a few more moments Angel beckoned the boy back inside. He had a warm towel ready and wrapped Connor in it before picking him up and cradling him close to his body.

Angel carried Connor up to his suite and proceeded to dry the boy off before getting him into fresh pajamas. Connor started to droop in his arms, tuckered out from playing in the rain. Angel finished getting Connor dressed without any cooperation on Connor's end. Finally when he was changed Connor's eyes flickered open for the briefest of seconds.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Angel asked.

He didn't care what any parenting books said about children Connor's age needing to sleep in their own bed. He already missed out on most of Connor's life, he wasn't going to turn him away now when he finally got the boy back. Even if the boy did kick in his sleep.

Connor responded in the way of a half nod-half uncommitted grunt before snuggling in deeper to Angel's chest and gripping Angel's pajama top tighter.

"I'll take that as a yes," Angel responded more to himself then anyone else.

He walked around to the left side of the bed and tucked the boy in, pulling the blankets up to his chin and planting a soft kiss to the crown of his head. Angel then walked around to his normal side of the bed and settled himself in. Connor immediately rolled over and staked claim to one of his father's arms, subconsciously nestling into Angel's side. Angel looked down at that mop of chestnut hair and that button nose and could almost pretend for a moment that it was baby Connor with him. With a feather light touch Angel traced his finger along a shallow scar that ran from below Connor's ear to the hollow of his cheek.

He had never given thunderstorms much thought before, but after today Angel was going to be eternally grateful for the summer rains.

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 **Thanks for reading I hope you liked it!** **Author's note: I know it doesn't rain in California all that often, let alone in the summer but it dramatically rained in Angel the Series all the time so its fine.**

 **Please leave a review if it's not too much trouble! Constructive criticism appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: If you're not familiar with Angel the Series or haven't seen season 3/4, Connor and Stephen are the same person. I'm using the names a bit interchangeably at the beginning for reasons that are revealed later in the chapter.**

 **I really cannot leave this father/son pair alone love me some fluff and I think I have enough unique ideas to be able to do a full story with Angel and Connor ya know with the whole rising action, climax, resolution bit.**

 **Anyway I hope you like it! Again Connor comes through the portal at 13 instead of 16/18 (whatever).**

 **Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! If Connor's your most hated buffyverse character, if you're upset/annoyed about the reboot, if you want to see more fluffy Angel/Connor fic's let me know!**

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Uncle Lorne

The lights flickered out, returning only after Connor pounded on what he dubbed the 'sweet spot' an area of wall next to the bathroom doorframe. Connor scoffed as the lights and the obnoxious hum returned to the tiny room.

The table he and his father were seated around seemed to stretch for miles, their fingertips just barely brushing across it. The harsh lines of his father's face illuminated again, his skin blistered and potmarked showing his years. His lips were pressed tight but Stephen could see the hard muscle of his jaw clench and unclench. Eyes darting back and forth between Stephen and the door inconspicuously so, Stephen only noticed because he had been taught the same behavior.

"I've seen his true face," Stephen explained – pleading with his father to see that his reasons for busting open the crack between the worlds were just and honorable.

"And I've seen yours," came his father's soft reply. For the first time in Stephen's life his father looked defeated, "I am giving you back to him,"

"No. No you cannot! Father I implore you! Please!" Stephen began fumbling over the words as a tear rolled down his cheek. His father was going to hand him over to a demon, just like that.

His father's laugh was clipped, "As if I'd want you around, what with a face like that."

Stephen turned to look at his reflection in the glass of the motel window and recoiled at the sight. His brow had furrowed and became angry. His eyes ripe with jaundice, his teeth now sharp points designed to pierce flesh. Stephen reached up to touch the hard ridges on his face.

"No, no, no, no!"

Connor jerked in his sleep, awaking on impact with the plush patterned carpet. His skin was slick with cold sweat and his bed sheets were in a crumpled heap between him and his bed. His hands immediately went up to his face; searching for the cartilaginous ridges or the sharpened teeth, letting go a relieved shudder when he found neither.

Connor sat up, pushing his back to rest against his bed and pulled his knees in close to his body. He curled into himself, letting the pajama bottoms mop up most of the tears.

Connor wanted nothing more than to go to his father; apologize, bed forgiveness, and throw himself over hot coals. He'd do anything to make the man see that he was still his son, still his brave boy.

Another shudder ripped through Connor. He buried Daniel Holtz three months ago, he could do nothing of the sort.

A sob turned strangled cough climbed up his throat. His cheeks itched from the tears. All things left unsaid between them felt like nails in Connor's heart. Their goodbye was so abrupt and one sided.

The sadness seemed to gain sentience, with its weight resting on Connor's shoulders. Connor found his feet and began a frantic dash for Angel's room next door. He made it half way before he stopped. Angel would have been in there the moment he heard his son's nightmare – if he were home. If he cared.

Connor swallowed hard, of course his dad cared he just wasn't home. Connor stood in the hall between their rooms, lingering for a moment, unsure of what to do when his ears honed in on something.

Ice clinking against glass and a soft, sweet hum.

\- Lorne!

Connor turned on his heel and headed for the lobby.

"Lorn-ne!" He called out, tearing down the steps at an alarming speed.

Half blind with tears, Connor leapt over the desk and buried his face into Lorne's expensive suit.

"Okay, okay, easy Babycakes, I got you," Lorne said, setting his drink on the front desk and wrapping his arms around Connor, "Another nightmare?"

Connor nodded into Lorne's suit front, trying to answer verbally but his words jumbled into an undecipherable sob.

"Alright let's move this into Angel's office," Lorne maneuvered one arm around Connor's heaving shoulders before reaching back to grab his drink.

"When-wh when are they coming back?" Connor finally spoke through the tears.

"Soon baby, soon."

Lorne steered the distraught teenager over to Angel's desk. Setting his drink down he deposited Connor on top the desk while he sat in the chair.

"Can you talk about it?"

At first Connor shook his head, but then slowly he lifted his chin to meet Lorne's eyes, "I just- I just miss him so much. And-and I was such a bad son in the end. I was selfish in coming here. He knew and- and-," Connor trailed off as another sob turned cough stopped any further explanation.

"Okay, okay," Lorne said, putting his hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezing. He moved to stand, walking around the desk to head back into the lobby offices when Connor reached for his hand.

"Whe-where are you going?" The boy looked so pitiful. His cheeks flushed and wet, his eyes puffy from crying, nose dripping snot.

"I'm going to be right back baby," Lorne assured him, prying his fingers out of the preternaturally strong grip. That was something he never thought he would get used too- a 13 year old with the grip strength of a fully grown Graplar demon.

Lorne fetched the items he needed with haste; water and plenty of tissues. Making his way back over to Connor he handed him first the tissues, watching as Connor crinkled them up and mashed them into his face before he decided to take over.

Lorne gently wiped at the reddened cheek and teary eyes before moving to the cute button nose giving the instruction to, "blow". He then put the glass of water in Connor's sweaty palm, tapping on the bottom of the glass.

Connor, not realizing how thirsty crying made someone downed the entire glass in one gulp. Setting the cup down, Connor let out one last shudder before turning his eyes up to look at Lorne, the tears all but a trickle now.

"Better?" Lorne asked, settling back into the chair. Receiving a nod in reply, Lorne waited patiently for the rest of the story to spill out as Connor found his words.

"Father- Daniel-" Connor trailed off, it felt wrong to refer to that man as father while in Angel's house, but he didn't really know what else to call him.

"Father," Connor began again, settling on the moniker he had given the man his entire life so far, "I told myself I was doing this all for him, to gain justice and redemption. To prove that I was not just this awful thing that spawned from two demons. But in the end, I was doing it for myself. I wanted to meet Angel. I wanted to see who my father was with my own eyes…"

Lorne only nodded when Connor trailed off, waiting for him to pick the story back up again.

"When times became hard; in Quor'toth or between father and I, I used to pretend what life would be like with a mother and father. And I would be lying to myself if-if I said I was not picturing my life with Angel."

"The 7th circle of hell is reserved for liars and betrayers," Connor added, "I wonder which mouth I'll get."*

Lorne's mouth hung open for a moment, before closing it, pinching his lips tight. He reached up, wiping away the few remaining tears still on Connor's cheeks. Connor had already condemned himself to the worst circle of hell, at 13.

"Connor," Lorne began after taking a moment to process, "daydreaming about a better life when you're stuck in a hell dimension is hardly a mortal sin. Regardless of what motivated you to get out of that dimension, you did yourself and Holtz a favor punching your way through.

"Don't think of it as betraying your father's teaching- you're coming into your teenage years. You're forming your own opinions, you wanted to see Angel for yourself, with your own bright blue eyes." Lorne said cupping the reddened cheeks, giving them a friendly squeeze until Connor cracked a half smile.

"Here," Lorne said, handing Connor the now watered down night cap, "sip slowly,"

Connor did as he was told and took a sip before curling back, coughing and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Then, like a baby trying a lemon, he tentatively took another sip to assure himself that what he had swallowed was indeed gross.

Lorne let out a chuckle as Connor tossed him an accusatory glance before setting the glass on the desk.

"Oh you'll learn to love it one day." Lorne said passing a hand through Connor's soft curly trusses, "you want to man the front desk with me until the gang gets back?"

Connor nodded, slipping his hand into Lorne's as they stool the adjustable desk chairs and moved to the front desk. With the phone set equidistant between them they engaged in a competitive game of 'fast hands' to see who could answer the phone first.

…

"Man! What a busy night," Gunn said, wrapping his arm around Fred giving her a gentle squeeze.

Fred, Gunn, Angel and Wesley all strolled into the lobby varying degrees of shambles.

"Eww! Gunn youre getting Hundorn goop on me," Fred said, playfully pushing at Gunn's side.

"Hey! Some cultures find a man covered in goop to be quite attractive," Gunn said releasing her.

"Yeah well go find one. I'm sure you'd be considered irresistible in your state." Fred tossed over her shoulder gathering up the weapons for cleaning.

"Good work done by all," Wesley said easily, despite his contemptive glance at Fred and Gunn.

"I'd say," Angel agreed, clapping Wesley on the back, "Nice job with that sun cult, the way you tossed that axe-" Angel trailed off when he took in the sight before him, quieting down immediately.

Lorne was sitting behind the front desk on a bar stool with Connor asleep on his lap. The boys legs dangling on either side of Lorne and his head nestled firmly in the crook of Lorne's neck.

"Oh the phones were ringing off the hook tonight," Lorne said, sharing in the merriment, "And Gunn I think the goop looks very attractive on you, really brings out your eyes."

Gunn smiled and pointed a thumb in Lorne's direction mouthing 'see' to Fred.

"Lorne-" Angel trailed off, gesturing towards his teenage son, who normally opposed to any sort of coddling.

"Hmm? – Oh the little guy," Lorne answered finally catching on to the confused stares, "don't you worry he is out like a light."

Lorne reached up to pat Connor's back a couple of times. Angel quickly shed his soiled over coat, slinging it across the round couch and made his way over to Lorne.

"Bad nightmare, he wanted to wait until Papa got back," Lorne grunted, hefting the heavy child into Angel's awaiting arms. Angel nodded, settling the boy on his chest and planting a kiss on the crown of his son's head.

Connor subconsciously noticed the familiar smell burrowed deep into Angel's shoulder, letting go a warm sigh that tickled Angel's neck.

"Well," Lorne said looking at his watch, "I'd say it's time for a shift change, if any of you need me before noon tomorrow – well just try your best not to need me. Uncle Lorne is heading to bed."

"Goodnight Lorne, and thank you," Angel said softly, rocking his son gently in his arms.

"Happy to help," Lorne said, giving Connor's leg a gentle squeeze before retiring for the night.

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*Quote paraphrased from a conversation between Lilah and Wesley in an episode in Season 4

 **Please leave a review if it's not too much trouble! I have since learned that you are supposed to respond to reviews so I will do that!**


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